[November Challenge] Worlds collide
Oct. 23rd, 2010 02:52 am![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
http://users.livejournal.com/_crimsonearth/ posting in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png){kind=small}
writing_shadowsWith apologies to ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
seph_hazard for somewhat implicating Anna in the death of my newest character, however, on the plus side, this is the one fic so far that is entirely speculation and not, in fact, an IC event, so hoping she'll forgive me. ^_^
Eva had been nursing the same one glass of rum and coke for the past hour, in a sort of a daze, staring into empty space, running over Anna’s words in her mind. So much to take in, and none of it made sense.
She left the bar in the same half-cognisant state, floating along the dark streets with her hands slumped in her coat pockets, her brow furrowed into a deep frown, her lips moving noiselessly as she worked it over and over in her mind. A sudden clatter in the near distance snapped her out of her thoughts as she tore her eyes up with rapt attention. A shadowy figure sat hunched beside a skip a little further up the alley and in a flash of dark russet fur, a cat shot up the fence behind it.
She picked up her pace, self-consciously dipping her head and drawing her coat closer around her, keeping her eyes forward. As she passed, though, she couldn’t help but see the flash of steel in the girl’s hand -- and it was, most definitely, a girl -- but the strangest looking girl she had ever seen, with sallow, scarred skin and an emaciated frame, a long black cloth wound about her head across her left eye, her ankles twisted awkwardly underneath her in impossibly high boots, scuffed and mud-soaked.
Eva stopped -- and she knew she shouldn’t have -- but she stopped.
The knife wasn’t pointing at her. The girl’s hands were trembling and she was cutting into her own flesh along her bare forearm, her wounded mouth whispering words in a sharp, guttural tongue that sounded vaguely familiar; Russian, she thought.
Eva remembered in a flash what Anna had told her about the anagrams, and a familiar panic rose in her chest, closing up her throat as she wondered briefly whether Julius had managed to arrange for his body to have been safely moved to the facility they'd spoken of. She had simply assumed it had been dealt with. Now she was worried again.
She cocked her head to try and see a little better what the girl was cutting, her practised detachment momentarily overriding her concern for the sight of thick blood oozing a little slower than, had she stopped to consider it, was normal for such deep wounds. She realised, however, fractionally too late, that such interest was undoubtedly unwelcome, and that she had paused for too long to resume walking without notice.
The girl looked up, the one dark eye boring into Eva with the wild, frenzied glare of an animal, injured and cornered.
Eva froze, rooted to the spot.
“I… I’m a doctor…” Eva stammered, uselessly. “I mean, I… well, I-I have a medical degree. C-Can I help you? P-Please… let me help you…”
The girl stared at her for a long moment, still uttering words that meant nothing to Eva, though she didn’t seem to be talking to her, so much as to herself. Finally, she lowered her head, and resumed her cutting. Eva wavered, all her senses screaming at her to get out, but somewhere inside, a voice was telling her that this was important; this was one of those things that would answer questions, fill in a piece of a puzzle, connect a link between circumstances that made no sense. Curiosity had always been a dangerous addiction for the inquiring mind. Trembling, she lowered herself to a crouch and crept forward a step.
“I… I think I know what’s happening to you… I c-can help you, if you’ll let me…”
Slowly, she reached out toward her, but her reactions were too slow; in the blink of an eye, the girl’s hand shot out and grabbed her wrist with an iron grip, her skin like ice, nails bruising into Eva’s flesh. Eva cried out and tried to tug away but could not prise an inch from her. She looked down at the exposed arm, the markings now clear and gleaming with thick, dark blood in the starlight.
The letters had been cut over and over, hundreds of little slices, one on top of the other, with sharp wicked edges, like twigs sunken into muddied snow. Eva’s eyes widened.
“Ohhh! That’s not… I’m sorry, I -- I thought…”
As she looked up, she saw sharp, gleaming white fangs snarling over the girls pale lips and her heart almost stopped. She went to speak, but felt her mind closing up as their eyes locked, like steel doors closing down, one by one, shuttering off her thoughts. Then, in a flash, faster than she could take breath, the girl was on her, sinking those terrible fangs into her throat, and in a throbbing wave of anguish, the world slipped away.
seph_hazard for somewhat implicating Anna in the death of my newest character, however, on the plus side, this is the one fic so far that is entirely speculation and not, in fact, an IC event, so hoping she'll forgive me. ^_^Eva had been nursing the same one glass of rum and coke for the past hour, in a sort of a daze, staring into empty space, running over Anna’s words in her mind. So much to take in, and none of it made sense.
She left the bar in the same half-cognisant state, floating along the dark streets with her hands slumped in her coat pockets, her brow furrowed into a deep frown, her lips moving noiselessly as she worked it over and over in her mind. A sudden clatter in the near distance snapped her out of her thoughts as she tore her eyes up with rapt attention. A shadowy figure sat hunched beside a skip a little further up the alley and in a flash of dark russet fur, a cat shot up the fence behind it.
She picked up her pace, self-consciously dipping her head and drawing her coat closer around her, keeping her eyes forward. As she passed, though, she couldn’t help but see the flash of steel in the girl’s hand -- and it was, most definitely, a girl -- but the strangest looking girl she had ever seen, with sallow, scarred skin and an emaciated frame, a long black cloth wound about her head across her left eye, her ankles twisted awkwardly underneath her in impossibly high boots, scuffed and mud-soaked.
Eva stopped -- and she knew she shouldn’t have -- but she stopped.
The knife wasn’t pointing at her. The girl’s hands were trembling and she was cutting into her own flesh along her bare forearm, her wounded mouth whispering words in a sharp, guttural tongue that sounded vaguely familiar; Russian, she thought.
Eva remembered in a flash what Anna had told her about the anagrams, and a familiar panic rose in her chest, closing up her throat as she wondered briefly whether Julius had managed to arrange for his body to have been safely moved to the facility they'd spoken of. She had simply assumed it had been dealt with. Now she was worried again.
She cocked her head to try and see a little better what the girl was cutting, her practised detachment momentarily overriding her concern for the sight of thick blood oozing a little slower than, had she stopped to consider it, was normal for such deep wounds. She realised, however, fractionally too late, that such interest was undoubtedly unwelcome, and that she had paused for too long to resume walking without notice.
The girl looked up, the one dark eye boring into Eva with the wild, frenzied glare of an animal, injured and cornered.
Eva froze, rooted to the spot.
“I… I’m a doctor…” Eva stammered, uselessly. “I mean, I… well, I-I have a medical degree. C-Can I help you? P-Please… let me help you…”
The girl stared at her for a long moment, still uttering words that meant nothing to Eva, though she didn’t seem to be talking to her, so much as to herself. Finally, she lowered her head, and resumed her cutting. Eva wavered, all her senses screaming at her to get out, but somewhere inside, a voice was telling her that this was important; this was one of those things that would answer questions, fill in a piece of a puzzle, connect a link between circumstances that made no sense. Curiosity had always been a dangerous addiction for the inquiring mind. Trembling, she lowered herself to a crouch and crept forward a step.
“I… I think I know what’s happening to you… I c-can help you, if you’ll let me…”
Slowly, she reached out toward her, but her reactions were too slow; in the blink of an eye, the girl’s hand shot out and grabbed her wrist with an iron grip, her skin like ice, nails bruising into Eva’s flesh. Eva cried out and tried to tug away but could not prise an inch from her. She looked down at the exposed arm, the markings now clear and gleaming with thick, dark blood in the starlight.
в а н я
The letters had been cut over and over, hundreds of little slices, one on top of the other, with sharp wicked edges, like twigs sunken into muddied snow. Eva’s eyes widened.
“Ohhh! That’s not… I’m sorry, I -- I thought…”
As she looked up, she saw sharp, gleaming white fangs snarling over the girls pale lips and her heart almost stopped. She went to speak, but felt her mind closing up as their eyes locked, like steel doors closing down, one by one, shuttering off her thoughts. Then, in a flash, faster than she could take breath, the girl was on her, sinking those terrible fangs into her throat, and in a throbbing wave of anguish, the world slipped away.
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